


Team Fortress 2 One-Shots

by TwistedFireInMySoul



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/M, Fluff, Hunting, Kidnapped, M/M, Nightmares, One Shot, Other, Phone Calls & Telephones, Possibly leading to a bigger story?, Random & Short, Randomness, Spybot, Tumblr, colourblind, leave suggestions, mann vs machine, mvm, soulmate, spy head
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-05 01:10:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6683383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedFireInMySoul/pseuds/TwistedFireInMySoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This will be something that I will update randomly, as my life isn’t very structured. It will mainly be spur of the moment, and I can get my inspiration from anything. However, they will always be based around something; either a picture I have found, a picture I have drawn myself or just a suggestion that someone has left in the comments for me. Feel free to leave a message below if you have any ideas that you’d like me to write. I may not do any lemons, but a little fluff has never hurt anyone. If I do decide to write an intimate scene for someone, I will warn everyone at the top of the chapter beforehand. Enjoy random One-Shots friends.<br/>~~~<br/>Hey guys, I'm sorry for not updating in a while. Stress has been a struggle for me, and my creativity has been affected because of it. I do have some good news though; I have now made a Tumblr account where you can ask to see certain stories and pairings on here, as well as on there! Go and check it out. ^-^<br/>https://jayraephoenix.tumblr.com/</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my Book of One-Shots!!! ♡

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is written below. If I do not specify where an image comes from, it will have came from the internet. I will only specify if I or a friend has drawn it.

This will be something that I will update randomly, as my life isn’t very structured. It will mainly be spur of the moment, and I can get my inspiration from anything. However, they will always be based around something; either a picture I have found, a picture I have drawn myself or just a suggestion that someone has left in the comments for me. Feel free to leave a message below if you have any ideas that you’d like me to write. I may not do any lemons, but a little fluff has never hurt anyone. If I do decide to write an intimate scene for someone, I will warn everyone at the top of the chapter beforehand. Enjoy random One-Shots friends.


	2. I think this is yours...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RED Pyro returns BLU Spys lighter, and they get a little closer thanks to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based off a picture I have drawn myself. Enjoy.
> 
> https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/13/5e/d4/135ed4cc8c2ddfc51d622ade7001ee89.jpg

Gunshots. Explosions. Yells of the fallen. The sounds of war surrounded the firebug as he ran across the battlefield, ducking behind a rock to avoid the spray of bullets erupting out of the enemy Heavy's gun. Others knew this place to be one of death, the mercenaries all cold-blooded killers, yet the Pyro saw this as only one thing; home. This was all just an elaborate game to him, a mixture of hide-and-seek, capture the flag and other childish games which should only ever remain in an innocent mind. People shudder to imagine what the masked man sees, and yet what he sees is a wonderland which could match any little girl’s fantasy.

Waiting until the whir of the machine gun died out, he popped back up again, setting the enemy alight. Muffled laughter escaped him before he moved onto the next target, the Medic who was desperately trying to run towards the Soldier on the BLU team. It seemed that the Doctors on both teams, while they can fight to defend themselves if needed, prefer to let other classes fight for them. It was such a shame too, because their coats created such pretty colours when they are set alight: purples, pinks, different shades of red, and once there even was a hint of green. It was a pretty rainbow that he could watch for hours, or at least until Respawn picked them up and ruined his fire display. Thankfully he reached the man in time, letting him crumple to the ground.

Staring at the fire, he couldn’t feel the heat that he knew it was giving off, yet maybe that was for the best. He could touch the rainbows like this, let his hand dance with the swirls it was creating, but if he took his glove off the colours would punish him like a child. Keeping the suit on was a much better idea.

He was distracted from his creation not by the blue sparkles which began to surround the fallen Medic, but by the sound of a cloak being lifted. Was he the only one who could hear the Spies when they de-cloaked? Most probably, as no one else seemed to react the same way he did. It was a knack, Engie said; a knack which had saved the Texan’s life multiple times, and had saved his sentries whenever he left the firebug in charge of guarding them. Silly Spies. At least their suits were highly flammable.

Moving away from the corpse he glanced around, lifting his flamethrower only slightly to allow easier movement. He could see 4 of his team mates currently fighting to get to the intelligence in the opposing base. All looked normal, yet… One was different. Demo was standing next to the RED Medic, yelling obscene phrases which were only slurred near the end, his Engineer was upgrading a sentry that seemed to be malfunctioning, and Scout was running back towards their base, his baseball bat above his head. Surely he should be running the other way?

Beginning to follow the sprightly young man he picked up the pace, turning his walk into a trot to keep him in view. Yes, that was definitely the Spy; he was holding the bat in an awkward position, as if he was about to swing and hit someone’s head at any moment. It was the pose that Scout took just before he attacked, but he normally held it by his head instead of in the air when he was running. Silly, silly Spy.

Speeding up he moved his weapon so that it was lined up with the back of the fake Scout. His finger twitched, and the Frenchman burst into flames, beginning to scream as the disguise dropped almost immediately in a 'poof' of smoke. He fumbled for something in his pocket- his Balisong, perhaps?- before dropping to the floor, writhing as the flames engulfed him. The masked man cocked his head to the side, watching the Spy stop moving on the dry ground.

He stood there, just like he had before with the Medic, just staring at the dead man. Every now and then his finger twitched, however he knew that was just left over 'electricity' making his limbs move. It wasn't something to be worried about; the man had lit up rather nicely, like a big human-sized candle.

He wasn't even paying attention to his surroundings when he crouched next to the corpse, something shining in the dirt catching his gaze. A smooth, silver box with no engravings or details to mark it as unique. It must have fallen out of the Spy's jacket when he was going to grab something. Turning it over in his fingers he hummed under his breath, wondering whether he should add the lighter to his already growing collection.

Closing his gloved fingers around it, he tightened his grip before it seemed all of his muscles contracted at the same time. Shooting agony flared up behind him, and for a moment he thought that he was having a heart attack. He was being struck down for stealing; stealing was a terrible sin. Why did he not remember that before?

If the Pyro had been thinking straight, he'd have realised that no, his pain wasn't being caused by some holy divinity, but by an asshole who only thinks that he is some sort of God. The Spy, who only moments ago had been a burnt husk on the floor, was currently gloating over the dying firebug. It was clear that he'd used the Dead Ringer to return from his temporary demise, and had decided to exact revenge on the man for putting him in that state in the first place. Yet how was the masked man, one who suffered badly from Schizophrenia, going to come to that rational explanation? Not incredibly easy, unlike his teammates. His vision began to go black around the edges, and feeling the sharp edge of the butterfly knife slide out between his shoulder blades caused the agony to increase by ten-fold. Blood seeped from the wound, and with his systems shutting down slowly it was of no surprise that the Frenchman took this moment to say a snarky line.  
"Did zhat 'urt? I'm zorry chéri; juzt returning zhe favour."

He hated that Spy. This was the last thought on his mind as he died with his eyes open, staring up at him with disgust and fear. He really hated that Spy. A part of him didn't want to give back the lighter which he'd taken, but... He didn't want to be killed again by someone who he thought was dead. Would that make the BLU Spy a zombie? Maybe. Probably. Just not wanting to eat flesh. Even that thought didn’t comfort him.

After that he couldn’t really focus on anything. Respawn was always such a nauseating experience, swirling in a pool of nothing while you could practically feel the flesh of your old body disintegrating and rebuilding itself while your soul just watches, your conscious form trying to understand the impossible. Not only did you feel numb, you felt as though you were on fire at the same time, a million knives were stabbing at you at different angles, your person being blown up without consideration for the torture you were being put through. Coming back from beyond the grave was almost as bad as the battlefield; he had respawned in a matter of seconds.

Looking down, the first thing he noticed was that his right hand was still clenched around the lighter. The shiny surface of the metal allowed him to see his own reflection, the soulless gaze of the gas mask calculating his every move, and while it may have been unnerving for the others on his team he enjoyed this face. It was nicer to look at than his other face. His other face sent people running for no reason. At least with this mask there is a reason for people to fear him.

A muffled hum escaped him as he tucked the lighter in the little bag he carried on his left hip, his mind beginning to focus on the task of finding the BLU Spy. If he were a back-stabbing coward, where would he go…? Easy; to wherever the Sniper was camping. That was normally in his nest, as it had a good view of most of the battlefield, so he could easily hit anyone he wanted to.

Starting to cross the battlefield again, making sure to burn any enemy who got too close for comfort, the masked man managed to make it to one of the Sniper's many nests with only a few minor wounds to show for it. He was feeling incredibly proud of himself, and starting to climb the ladder he wondered how he was going to give the lighter to the Spy without being killed in the process. Perhaps he would just tell him politely?... No one understood his muffles apart from Engie, which didn't exactly help the situation. He could just throw it at him? He may not notice it... So many decisions.

Reaching the top, he peaked his head inside, scanning it thoroughly before muttering darkly and starting to descent down once more. He wasn't in here; only a few more to go.

It was third time lucky that he found the Spy, taunting the fallen RED Sniper who currently was sporting a butterfly knife in between his shoulder blades. This meant that he'd be able to get the Frenchman's attention without dying. Pulling his fire-axe off his back, he rearranged his stance before swinging at the man, the blunt side hitting him in the side. He crumpled like a house of cards.

Stepping forward and (briefly) enjoying the pain and fear dancing in the other's cold blue eyes, he loomed over him menacingly. He could have killed him, but instead held up his index finger.  
'Wait.' Replacing his axe carefully on his back, he kept this hand up as he started to rifle through his side pocket with the other, bypassing his own lighter only to pull out the shining silver which obviously belonged to a gentlemen.  
"Yww drwppdd thss..." It was accurate enough. He did, and the Pyro picked it up.

The Spy looked at the masked man as if he didn't quite understand what was going on. It didn't quite register with him that he was no longer in danger for the time being, and he didn't need to be so shocked by hearing almost human noises leaving that gas mask. Holding his shaking hand out, he took the lighter from him slowly, their fingers brushing for just a moment.  
"... Merci."

Once the lighter had left his grasp the firebug took a step back, glancing at the Balisong lying innocently on the floor- by now the Australian's particles had gone back to respawn- before kicking it back to him slowly. He wouldn't kill an unarmed man. He wasn't cruel.

Perhaps this was also the reason why he let the Spy go instead of chasing after him. Let him have a head start... One thing was for certain though, as both men parted ways. The Spy wouldn't forget this act of kindness from the enemy.

"Maybe zhat Pyro izn't az bad az I zhought..."  
"Myybw thh Shpy ss owky..."

Things may never be the same again on the battlefield of Teufort.


	3. Talking with old friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two old friends, Miss Pauling and BLU Engineer, decide to catch up over some official business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be a little different to my previous chapter, simply because I had this amazing idea when I saw this image:  
> https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/9c/6c/69/9c6c69f8350ae5b822c010accd6fca64.png  
> Thank you so much my best friend for being my amazing Engineer in this chat!!! I really enjoyed creating this with you, and I hope that everybody enjoys this short chapter involving the lovely lady-in-purple herself. :)

*phone rings*  
  
 **Engineer: Howdy, Missus Pauling. *awkward coughing***  
 _Miss Pauling: Howdy partner! Rustle up the... Uhh, cows and... Move... Move 'em out... Of the barn?... Partner. *laughs nervously*_  
 **Engineer: You should prob'ly leave the drawlin' to me, Missus Pauling. Be best for alla us. But what can I help ya with?**  
 _Miss Pauling: *laughs* Good idea. I've called up about Respawn. Medic called about it earlier, saying that it was taking longer to get back into battle?_  
 **Engineer: Respawn, huh? Yeah, noticed that too m'self. Didn't think nothin' of it though. There somethin' bigger goin' on I should be aware-a?**  
 _Miss Pauling: Maybe. I believe the same is happening to the RED Respawn too, so a temporary cease-fire has been announced... *sighs* Do you think that it's something you'd be able to fix yourself? Or do you need me to come down?_  
 **Engineer: Naw, I can figger it out. Lemme take a gander 'fore you come all the way here. Now the RED Engineer, y'all might should check up on _'im._ Poor boy don't got the good sense God gave a goose, bless his heart.**  
 _Miss Pauling: *laughs* I'll ring him next, seeing as you asked so kindly... Not that I had to anyway. I also needed to talk to you about performance ratings. The Administrator wishes to know why 'you have failed upon retrieving the opposing team's intelligence.'_  
 **Engineer: Well, uh... *awkward cough* Now that there's the problem, ain't it? Ya get a bunch of mercs, heck, anyones, together an' they're bound t'have a couplea bad days now an' then. It ain't like this is, uh, too common.**  
 _Miss Pauling: Don't play dumb with me. I have the statistics in front of me. Don't get me wrong, you have both been stuck at a stalemate for a long time... But maybe a tad too long this time?_  
 **Engineer: Now I weren't tryin' to pull the wool over your eyes, but, respectfully ma'am, don't you maybe think having so these regulations an' rules in place is why we ain't makin' progress? With our resources an' skills all matched up, our winnin' an' losin', well it's much down to luck. Who gets killed at the right time, who builds their teleporter faster'n the other.**  
 _Miss Pauling: ... I believe you have a point there Engineer... *hums in annoyance* Yet there is no way to give one team a definite advantage apart from adding in another class. Which won't be happening any time soon._  
 **Engineer: Well that there's a right pickle, ain't it? Can't add nothin', can't change nothin'. Though if the Administrator really wants to shake things up, why'ren't we attacking RED right now, if there really is somethin' up with the Respawn?**  
 _Miss Pauling: That reason is simple; if any of you die, RED or BLU alike, we don't know what will happen to them. They could be completely fine, they could not return at all or they could develop a mutation thanks to the DNA being scrambled up._  
 **Engineer: Of course I'd fix up Respawn afore trying somethin' like that.**  
 _Miss Pauling: Now Engineer... I understand that you build machines which kill people, but in your heart you know that they don't actually die. Would you be able to have on your consious the death of 9 men, all of whom wanted the same thing you did?_  
 **Engineer: ... Yer right. I can't do that.**  
 _Miss Pauling: *chuckles* We all have our limits. At least you aren't like Spy. He'd have done it in a heartbeat._  
 **Engineer: That sneaky snake'd kill them _and_ alla us too if he thought he could get away with it.**  
 _Miss Pauling: I hate to say it, but you're right...And I agree with you. No, he wouldn't get away with it; he'd probably be disposed of by yours truly... I'm going off topic. What do you personally think will help you win?_  
 **Engineer: I can't say I rightly know. The only way somethin' like this can end is if things change. RED an' BLU are too evenly matched an' Mr. Blutarch sure as heck ain't gonna be givin' up anytime soon. Same for Mr. Redmond. If one-a them kick the bucket, or if someone else gets involved... Maybe then this whole mess could get sorted out proper, but until then, I dunno what to tell ya.**  
 _Miss Pauling: *sighs lowly* This war has been going on for far too long in my opinion. Old men are just far too stubborn for their own good... When did the war even start? 1964?_  
 **Engineer: T'be fair, they've been feudin' just about since birth, and that was somethin' like a hundred years ago. My granddaddy built the machines keepin' their dusty hearts beatin', so it's been long enough.**  
 _Miss Pauling: So they have a robot beating their hearts for them? I knew they should have died many, many years ago... Cheaters._  
 **Engineer: ... *evasively* Somethin' like that.**  
 _Miss Pauling: I'm sorry. I probably just offended you for calling them robots. Unfortunately I don't know the technical term for them. *giggles awkwardly*_  
 **Engineer: Naw, nothin' like that. Don't you worry none, Missus Pauling. Now if there weren't nothin' else...?**  
 _Miss Pauling: I've mentioned Respawn, and the fighting... Ah. Yes. *awkward cough* There has been some footage... Which I need to discuss with you. It isn't necessarily about you, however... I'm sure you have noticed something._  
 **Engineer: *evenly* There's lots to notice round these parts. Like what?**  
 _Miss Pauling: The Medic. And the Heavy. Noticed anything about those two?_  
 **Engineer: I might could have seen something, I might could have not. Why're ya askin'?**  
 _Miss Pauling: ... I went against the rules of my contract and deleted certain videos with those two in them. I need to know whether this will be continuing, simply so I can make sure to delete further... Evidence._  
 **Engineer: *surprised* On, well then. I'm mighty sorry for misjudging your intentions. I'll speak to 'em about it, but t'be completely honest, I don't think they'll be stoppin' anytime soon.**  
 _Miss Pauling: *snorts* My intentions? What exactly were you thinking Engineer? I am not cold and heartless; if they are happy together than no piece of paper should stop that._  
 **Engineer: My thoughts exactly, ma'am. You've got my thanks.**  
 _Miss Pauling: No need to thank me. Just keep in mind though, that cameras are everywhere on both bases, and on the battlefield... We 'higher-ups' can be incredibly nosy._  
 **Engineer: That ya can be. Well. Was nice talkin' with ya, Missus Pauling. Y'all should drop by sometime an' I'll fix up a right proper meal for ya.**  
 _M_ _iss Pauling: That sounds lovely Engineer. Perhaps I'll pop over if something drastic happens... Or Scout tries another romantic gesture. *chuckles* It's been nice speaking to you. Keep what I said in mind for all 3 subjects._  
 **Engineer: Heh, can do. You be safe now.**  
 _Miss Pauling: You too. Or as safe as you can get on a battlefield... Partner._  
  
*phone clicks*


	4. Hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a lovely day, so why would the Sniper not want to go out hunting? Shame that he becomes the prey when he enters the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was created for a very close friend of mine, who has made so many beautiful pictures for me that I wanted to repay her. She's an amazing friend, and I loved writing with her OC.

The weather had been pleasant for the past few days, and with fresh dew on the grass a certain RED Sniper looked up. A few clouds lazily drifted across the sky, yet as they were a fluffy white it wouldn't be likely that it'd rain. There was only a slight breeze, which didn't even threaten to blow off his hat; it was perfect hunting conditions. 

He started his exploration after a mug of coffee, quiver of arrows strapped to his back and bow in hand. Striding into the forest near the base sent shivers up his spine, and it was in these moments that he felt alive. He thanked the temporary cease-fire (Something about the BLU Respawn breaking) as this allowed him to hunt without looking behind his shoulder at every twig breaking, every bird noise and every whistle of the wind.

While he may have began his day with a jaunty bounce in his step, soon enough things began to go down hill. His first shot at a wild boar only grazed the animal, which caused him to spend the next half an hour running away from a half-crazed wild pig. The next fifteen minutes was taken up by hiding in a tree, then a further five actually climbing down again. Today was turning out to be a waste.

He was thinking of heading back, until he finally struck gold. He saw a beautiful deer in a clearing, nibbling delicately at a patch of grass. She seemed to be alone, and lining up his shot he released the arrow with confidence. It hit her shoulder, causing the creature to panic and flee from the unknown predator. A chase soon began... And yet what he ended up seeing wasn't what he was expecting.

Tracking the injured animal was simple enough, and pushing away shrubbery he froze at the scene laid out in front of him. A young woman was tending to the deer, a bloodied arrow at her side and bandages already on the elegant creature. She was quick with her hands, and he was stunned that she was helping the trembling deer. 

"What the hell?" He took a step forward to stop her, except... What happened next fascinated him. The Shiela looked up, and set into motion a series of events. Standing, curling hair around her face shifting in the wind, she turned and ran into the overgrowth. Her clothing was little, allowing a lot of skin to be seen, but the fear in her eyes made the Aussie want to know more. Forgetting his previous target and chasing after this new prey, he was in for a surprise.

He wasn't exactly a graceful man. His tall frame and lanky limbs made running awkward, and not surprisingly he wasn't very fast. Yet it wasn't this that hindered him. No, it was the rope trap which tightened around his ankle that stopped him. Being yanked up, he found himself upside down soon enough.

Swearing and cursing angrily, he tried to get out. Regretting his decision to leave his Kukri behind, he didn't even notice that the female was back. She was simply watching him, no words leaving her to tell him that his tongue was foul. It took him a full thirty seconds before he realised he was being watched.   
"Let me down! I ain't an animal!" He twisted in the rope, his posture causing his face to go red. It was only when he began to calm did his blood run cold. In front of him, clear as day, was a BLU. 

To be exact, it was the BLU Sniper. The original, he remembered, but stuck in Respawn thanks to a glitch, only to be spat out after hours. He seemed alright, until he tried to move. Poor bastard had been paralyzed from the waist down, so he had to go. Guess this was the man's replacement.

She was pretty, he couldn't deny that. He wasn't entirely sure why she decided to dress like a mistress-of-the-night, instead of wear the BLU Sniper's uniform, but to each their own. He couldn't judge her.

"Look, Shiela, can ya let me down? Cease-fire and all?" He tried to reason with her, but her lack of words was putting him on edge. She had a hunting knife strapped at her side, and when she reached for it he started to babble. Mainly about how he was only there hunting, and he didn't mean to harm her.

Slow, steady steps forward and a finger going to his lips shut him up. The steel blade went to his throat, slicing into him and cutting his carotid artery. At last she spoke as he bled out, practically choking on his own blood. Her voice reminded him of wind chimes, so soft that he had to strain to hear her.

"So, the hunter is now the hunted. You should of ran faster RED."


	5. A New Toy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Hey guys, I'm sorry for not updating in a while. Stress has been a struggle for me, and my creativity has been affected because of it. I do have some good news though; I have now made a Tumblr account where you can ask to see certain stories and pairings on here, as well as on there! Go and check it out. ^-^))  
> https://jayraephoenix.tumblr.com/

**“Alert! The enemy has taken our intelligence!”** The commanding voice of the Administrator warned the RED team of what the BLU were doing, and the Pyro looked up from his fire display. What had once been the BLU Scout was now a human candle, only just starting to be picked up by Respawn. The blue sparkles weren’t as interesting to watch compared to his dancing rainbows, so he started to trot towards the room housing their briefcase.

 

    He hummed softly as he went, going into his filter a pretty tune and coming out a mumbled mess. He didn’t seem to mind too much, nodding his head to the beat that he was making. It wasn’t as if he could hear much anyway, besides his feet running on the tiles in the base. That, and a soft whispering noise, up ahead. Strangely enough, he’d figured out a long time ago that the other mercenaries couldn’t hear this sweet noise; they’d probably lost their sensitive hearing because of the gunfire that surrounded them daily.

 

    Pausing on the corner, his finger twitched onto the trigger, before he turned and allowed his flames to spring to life. He’d heard a Spy cloaking, so knew he wasn’t holding the intelligence. It was against the rules for him to cloak while holding their intelligence; it made his game of hide-and-seek much harder if he did, because he could risk burning their important documents.

 

    A shriek was heard as the fire enveloped a hidden figure, who quickly ran away from the Pyro. His suit jacket left a trail of smoke behind him, and in an attempt to put himself out he ditched the clothing and continued to flee. The Pyro glanced at the piece of material, tapping it with his foot, before promptly ignoring it and following the Spy. He loved watching that man burn, simply because he was the one that caused the Engineer so much pain; he hated it when the Frenchman destroyed one of his many sentries, because the grief in the Engineer’s eyes was nearly unbearable.

 

    Chasing after him, he giggled at the idea of this being a game of tag. When he caught the Spy, he’d be it until he caught him, and on and on the game would play until he grew bored and changed it, adding in a new twist or rule. He remembered when his team caught the Spy after hours; oh, what a fun game that had been! He had to make the Spy talk, and was allowed to do it anyway he wanted, as long as he didn’t die. The Medic had been with him too, but it was only because he had to make sure that he didn’t break the only rule they’d given him. The Spy didn’t talk though, which was unfair and mean. After all, it only meant that they would play the game again in the future, to get him to talk again.

 

    He could see the Spy slowing, the burns on his arms and legs seeming to take its toll. It was funny when he stumbled and fell, causing the firebug to tower over the man. Slowly putting away his flamethrower and pulling his axe off his side, he tilted his head and leaned forward. He could see his own reflection in the Spy’s steel blue eyes. His gaze was soulless, one of a monster, and he liked it that way. People had a reason to run away from this face, a reason to hate and fear it. He didn’t like when people hated his real face.

 

    Dragging the axe against the floor, he rested the blade against the BLU’s neck. His pulse flickered, showing his fear for the entire world to see as the Pyro chuckled. His laugh was one that belonged in nightmares, twisted and ruthless to the other men when he was playing. The filter always changed the way he sounded, but that only added to the horror element.

 

     With one precise swing, he separated the Spy’s head from his body, blood spurting out onto the once-white tiles. The cigarette that was in his mouth hung from his bottom lip precariously, as if someone had stitched it on in case of situations like this. It was almost comical as he picked the bodiless head up from the floor, slowly carrying it to the Medibay. Let the BLU take their briefcase; he now had a new toy to play with, once the Medic brings him back to life.


	6. One Cold Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((This is a follow on from the previous chapter, 'A New Toy', if you haven't figured that out already! I hope you all enjoy.))

    The sterile smell of the Medibay filled the Doctor's nose as he worked, his pen scratching onto paper. The last battle had ran quite smoothly, with them only losing their briefcase once to the BLU. However, it seemed no matter how well they performed, there was always a mountain of paperwork to tackle afterwards. Being Medic of the team wasn't all just healing colleagues and hacking into enemies.

 

 

   A low muffled noise could be heard from the fridge on the opposite side of the room, and every thump made the Medic's grin grow a little larger. Earlier on, the Pyro had swayed the fight in their favour, eliminating the Spy with an axe to the throat. But instead of returning to Respawn, like every mercenary did when they were separated from their mortal body, the firebug had brought him the Frenchman’s head, which he’d revived and was currently living inside the freezing metal box.

 

   As soon as he’d finished the last of his reports he stood up, tidying the papers up before walking briskly to the fridge. Opening it, he peeked in with an evil smirk on his face.

“Hallo Herr Zpy. Comfortable in zhere?”

“Kill me.” He replied bluntly, anger blazing in his cold eyes. It was like dry ice; if he touched it, he’d burn himself. For some reason, that didn’t scare him, but instead he wanted to play with the Spy and singe his fingers.

“Now now, I can’t do zhat! It vouldn’t be very professional, now vould it?” Reaching for him, he avoided his bared teeth and picked him up. With a precise movement of his foot he shut the door, and holding the Spy’s head up he gave him a shark-like smile. He could feel the tension thick in the air, and the sparks between their eyes was undeniable. Wondering briefly how the man would react if he kissed him, the Doctor decided that it wouldn’t really matter in the end. In this moment, here and now, he couldn’t stop him even if he tried.

 

   He suddenly moved him closer, muffling the Spy’s protests quickly with his lips. A warm emotion started to rise in his chest as he closed his eyes; he didn’t object when the Frenchman ran his tongue across his bottom lip, but was actually surprised by how eager he was. Opening his mouth slightly, a low groan escaped him.

 

   The kiss was held only for a few moments, before a sharp pain burst to life in his mouth. Yanking the head away, he growled angrily; the bastard had bit his tongue, and now blood was trickling down his throat. He didn’t dislike the taste, but the fact that the Spy was insolent enough to think he could get away with that without punishment nearly made him laugh.

“Jou von’t get away vith zhat lightly.” He snarled, opening the fridge door and tossing him back inside. “Jou can ztay zhere until jou apologise.”

 

   With that, he shut the door with a bang and went to turn on the medigun. The Spy better beg for forgiveness when he next spoke to him, or else he could rot in there until the BLU saved him.


	7. Warm Hugs

     The sun was low over the horizon as the Engineer finished making changes to his last sentry. The battle had been over long ago, but it was his job to perform regular maintenance on his machines, changing them to night vision at dusk, then back again at dawn. True, it was highly unlikely for the BLU to attack while the RED slept, but it was nice to have the extra precaution if such a situation did arise.

 

     Now that the Texan had wrapped up his work, he straightened up and looked at the sunset. The colours swept over the sky, as though someone had painted many shades of yellow, orange and red on a large canvas of black and blue. It was gorgeous, and pushing his hat up with his thumb he took a moment to appreciate it.

 

     A few minutes passed as the sun sank below the flat plain that stretched out for miles, and now he stood under a midnight sky, a few stars already beginning to show themselves. With the dark, a breath of wind whispered in his ear, bringing a chill down his spine. There was something about this place, this war ground full of fake death, that was eerily beautiful at night.

 

     Bending down to pack away his tools, he shut the cherry-red box with a satisfying 'thunk' before closing his right hand around the handle. He went to pick up the toolbox, only to be stopped by gloved arms wrapping around his waist. He didn't panic, but instead smiled and turned his head. It was the Pyro who was currently giving him a hug; standing properly, he let out a small chuckle.

 

"Yah couldn't have waited in the warm for me, huh?" He loved the little firebug, and the sweet gestures they showed him on a regular basis. Yesterday, they had helped him sort out his entire workshop, and the day before they had protected his sentries from that pesky BLU Spy. He didn't know why they spent so much time around a boring old man like him, especially when they could play with Scout instead, but he appreciated it and showed this by treating them with only sweetness and kind words.

 

     Speaking of, the Pyro gently nuzzled into the Engineer's cheek, making a soft noise. It sounded like they said 'Mwah', as if giving him a kiss. He could feel a light blush cover his cheeks, followed by a grin.

 

"Is that supposed to be a kiss?" He asked, answered only by the firebug picking him up and spinning him around, giggling happily. Their strength always surprised him, but then again they did wield a pretty hefty flamethrower all of the time.

 

     As soon as they put him down, he promptly fell on his rump as he tried to regain his balance. Laughter bubbled out of his lips as he shook his head. The Pyro quickly sat beside him, their own glee shown by the rasping noises leaving their filter. He found it endearing, rather than terrifying, when they spoke or showed any signs of human emotion; he knew that they were just like a child under that mask, which was probably one of the reasons why the firebug treated him like a doting child idolising their father.

 

     Wrapping his arm around their shoulders, he pulled them closer to his chest so that he was now cuddling them. The pair both lay back, the stars twinkling above them as they enjoyed the silence between them. The moment was perfect, completed by the Pyro mumbling something quiet.

 

"W lwve yww Nngee."

 

"I love yah too lil buddy."


	8. Taken

   When the Sniper woke, he was greeted by darkness. It wasn’t the nicest companion, but it didn’t aggravate his throbbing head unlike light, so for that he was grateful.

 

   Blinking slowly, he looked down at himself, then at his surroundings. He was in a small, dank room, which had water dripping down the stones and forming puddles where they landed. The entire place smelt damp, and shivering he pulled his gangly limbs closer to his body. His arms were covered in bruises and cuts, some new and others old. His mind drew a blank when he examined the fresh wounds though, as strangely he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten them. Or, on a more pressing matter, how he’d gotten in this basement.

 

   Shifting into a more comfortable position, he cast his mind back to what he remembered last. He’d been fighting, obviously, but not against the BLU. No, a new threat had popped up, one that consisted of robots trying to blow up Mann Co. facilities all around the world. He had been at Coal Town, popping the heads off many a bot up in his nest, and then… Black. He hadn’t died, or else he would have woken up in the Respawn room feeling a little nauseous. Plus, he wouldn’t be littered with all of these injuries.

 

   He was drawn out of his thoughts by a slow, heavy clunking sound above his head. Raising an eyebrow, it only took a moment before his eyes widened and fear gripped at his heart. He’d been jumped by a machine on the field, and now he was locked in a small room without a way to escape… Except, of course, dying. However, he didn’t know if Respawn could pick him up in here, so he was only going to kick the bucket as a last resort.

 

   The footsteps stopped, only for a slow creak to break the thick layer of tension in the air. As the door swung open, protesting as it did so, it revealed a tall silhouette. It was shrouded in darkness, except for the piercing blue lights that were its eyes. They locked onto the Sniper, who’d slowly stood up to return its gaze, as though it were examining him. It sent shudders down his spine, doubly so when he realised what type of bot it was; a bloody Spybot had kidnapped him, and was holding him hostage.

 

   It entered the room with a soft hiss of its pistons, closing the door and starting to walk down the steps. Taking a step back, it was only now that the bushman began to realise how screwed he was. After all, he was defenceless, and he was pretty sure that soft flesh would fail miserably against strong metal. Not only that, but he couldn’t even grab at any stray wires because there simply wasn’t any.

 

   A whirr reached his ears as he backed up, pressing his back against the damp wall; the moisture caused his shirt to stick to his skin, creating a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t stop himself recoiling in disgust as the robot raised its arm, touching his cheek like a lover would. This broke every law of nature; a machine shouldn’t be able to have free will like this!

 

   And yet this thing seemed to be proving him wrong, soft noises leaving it as it pressed its cold body against his warm one. He hated how close it was, how vulnerable it was making him feel. It twisted the way he saw the world, saw this war, and he couldn't help the nervous gulp as the robot whispered,

"I'll zee you in 'ell... You 'andsome rogue~!"


	9. Rainbow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((This is a short story that may grow into a proper one, with more than one chapter! If you guys would like to see this happen, just leave a comment below. :) ))

   All his life the Engineer had been colour-blind. He only found out when he was five, and when his teacher told him to paint the frog a light shade of green. He ended up with a neon pink amphibian. How was he supposed to know the difference between the two shades of grey> When his parents found out, they were devastated; how was their son going to survive in a world without colour? Remarkably well, actually.

 

   At the age of seven, he found his love for maths, and from there he moved onto circuitry in science. By the age of nine he’d built himself a robot who followed him around, much like a small dog. The way his mind worked was fascinating, but his real stroke of genius was at the age of thirteen.

 

   After living so many years in a monotone world, why couldn’t he build something to fix his eyesight? He spent many hours in his room planning, calculating, making, until finally he’d solved his problem. He had created a pair of goggles that, when worn, acted like the three cones in a human eye, and let him see in full colour. He had some minor tweaks he need to mend, of course, but the first time he put them on he nearly cried. Everything was beautiful, and finally he fit in.

 

   Except he didn’t.

 

   Fast-forward years of bullying, either over his goggles, height, intellect, or some other stupid subject, and here he was, standing in front of his new workplace. He’d been approached by a lady in purple, who’d asked if he wanted to get paid for building machines. She didn’t even need to say anymore; he’d accepted as soon as she said the word ‘engineering’.

 

   He wasn’t jumping into the deep end blindfolded though. He’d been smart enough to read the entire contract, including the small print, before signing anything, and once he’d put his name on the dotted line he received a welcome pack explaining his job, and what it implied. He was not allowed to tell anyone his name, but rather use the title of the ‘Engineer’, or talk about his private life and disclose sensitive information about himself, family and friends. This was completely fine by him. He’d also been provided with multiple blueprints, some things he need to build and others, like the one labelled ‘Respawn’, that were already in place and he just needed to maintain. Sure, he had to shoot at fellas in blue, but they wouldn’t die. At least, not permanently. That was what the impressively complex piece of machinery was for, bringing them back from beyond the grave.

 

   When he arrived at his workplace, he was greeted by the same lady from before, and eight other mercenaries with a range of impressive skills suitable for their titles. There were two women amongst the men, the ones that he had to refer to as the Pyro and Spy. On the opposing team he learned they also had women fighting for them, but the classes were different: Medic and Scout. The old-fashioned Texan in him felt uncomfortable hurting a lady, but after seeing his own colleagues in the training room, the idea of them being vulnerable left him. These women were deadly.

 

   Over the first few weeks of working with the RED, the Engineer had started to form professional relationships with some of the members of his team. He and the Doc got on quite well, as both were on the same level intellectually. He’d even made some improvements on his medigun, so the soft-speaking Texan was always welcome in the medibay. Another beneficial friendship he had was with the Pyro, which made sense. She was good at spy-checking, and often guarded his sentries while he went searching for scrap metal. Like the Heavy and Medic, the pair were an unstoppable duo.

 

   It was a little more surprising that they spent a lot of free-time together, because they had next-to-nothing in common with one another. She was uneducated, he had seven PhDs, she was from England and he from the South, but somehow they could find things to talk about. She seemed to think of him as a father figure, and he was more than happy to spend time with the bubbly arsonist.

 

   Day had become night, and after struggling to gain any ground against the BLU in the blistering heat, the Engineer was thankful to fall into his bed and sleep. His joints ached, his brain was buzzing, and when he’d managed to pull off most of his clothes he closed his eyes blissfully. Wearing overalls in the desert was crazy, but it was his uniform so couldn’t complain. Next were his goggles. No, he did not sleep in them, though sometimes he wished he could. Falling to sleep surrounded by colour would be a nice change to the bleak shades of grey.

 

   He was starting to drift when a shy knocking rose him from this state.   
“What in tarnations…?” He asked nobody in particular as he sat up in his bed, turning his head to look at the door. The light was white against the dark wood, and standing he shuffled over to open it. He didn’t care all too much about his appearance- just pyjama bottoms were reasonable enough- so he opened the door without a second thought.

 

   For a minute he was stunned into silence, and he could suddenly see as if he’d been blind before.

 

   The Pyro stood in his doorway, clutching a pudgy unicorn and dressed in the official team pyjama’s, her symbol dotted over the fabric. It wasn’t seeing her that shocked him, but… It was HER that shocked him. Bathed in the hallway light, he could see the bright red of her clothing, the flush of colour on her cheeks, the dark brown of her short, slightly curly hair and how deep her eyes were, like chocolate he’d happily drown in.

“Engie…?” She broke his train of thought with a single soft word. Her voice, unlike most women, was scratchy and rough, through a mixture of smoke inhalation and her fondness for cigarettes, but it surprisingly suited her. “Engie, I had… I had a nightmare. Can I stay with you tonight?” She squeezed the toy in her arms, which he’d noticed was pink.

“U-Uh, yeah, ‘course yah can darlin’.” He held the door open for her, his mind still trying to process what was happening. He wasn’t wearing his goggles still, was he? No, she was the only thing in colour, and he could clearly see his goggles on the bedside table.

 

   Closing the door, he watched as she put the unicorn down on his bed, only to crawl onto the sheets. When she let go of the soft toy it lost its colour, fading to a dull grey, but when she touched the duvet the crimson burst to life under her fingers, staining the material and brightening his bed. Anything she touched bloomed like a flower in spring, and he was in awe.

 

“What… What was yah dream about honey?” He asked, slowly sitting beside her. His hands were trembling, so he bunched the sheets beneath his fingers.

“The BLU Spy. He was laughing at me, and I could see you… But you didn’t look like you. You were all grey, and you looked sad…” The Engineer breathed in deeply through his nose when she explained what she had seen; only the Medic knew about his condition, and that’s because he had access to his medical files. He wouldn’t be surprised if their own Spy knew too, the way she asked questions about his goggles.

“Well I’m fine, don’t you worry ‘bout me. There ain’t any spies round here, ‘cept the one in her room.”

“But what if he is here?” Worry was swimming in her eyes as she bit her lip, and he felt his heart break a little.

“Well, I said that yah could stay the night, and I’m a man of mah word. If I see a Spy, I’ll wake yah up, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She smiled a little, before leaning forward and giving him a hug. She usually tackled him into a bear hug if they won a match, so he wasn’t surprised by the gesture, but rather what it did to him. Returning the embrace, his eyes widened when he saw his skin start to brighten, basking in the colour the Pyro was unknowingly giving him.

 

   The cuddle didn’t even stop, which was the best thing. He felt his nerves tingle when she pulled him down onto the bed with her, and shuffling a little closer he pulled the blankets over them both. She was warm, like a hot water bottle, and the way she lay her head on his chest made his heart go funny. Was it her touch that was causing his cheeks to heat up, or the fact that he could enjoy the sort of colours she was giving him without watching through a sheet of glass? He didn’t know, but he wasn’t too worried about searching for the answer.

 

   Slowly running his fingers through her hair, he heard her let out a content sigh, relaxing into his touch. He wouldn’t mind her visiting more often, staying over the night to snuggle, nothing more. He’d always wanted to protect her (he supposed it was a part of his nature), but now she was even more precious to him.

“Sweet dreams, mah little rainbow.”


End file.
